Author's Note: I honestly have no idea why I participated in this challenge. I'm not really the type of guy who does this sort of thing, but when I was told I got my pal Wep in the exchange, I thought...'Damn, this'll be easy'. Let me just tell you, hubris is a bitch. Turned out this wasn't as easy as I thought. So Wep, I tried to stick close to what you wanted, but honestly I ended up going down a bunch of side paths along the way. I did throw in a certain section that I figured you'd appreciate to make up for it though. And a big thanks to DD for the beta and notes.

This fic is written for Wepdiggy as part of Mikki13's Holiday Fic Exchange Challenge. Wep asked for Team Bartowski, a crappy Christmas tree, and alcohol, but didn't want the story to include Morgan, Ellie, or the word "sweetie". There was no requested pairing but he did request Chuck/Casey/Sarah team bonding (and I tossed in some Charah anyway), and the prompt was: A mission gone wrong has left Team Bartowski stuck in a safehouse in a snowy rural area on Christmas. Casey and Sarah try to lift Chuck's spirits and the team shares stories of holidays past over drinks.

Warning: Just remember, people, I wrote this for Wep! So...yeah, that's why some of the stuff is how it is. moo already gave me crap for it, so that's been taken care of. Haha. Enjoy and happy holidays.

Chuck knew he was sulking, but he didn't care.

They were ruining Christmas! This was supposed to be the happiest time of the year and what was he doing? He was stuck in a damn car as they drove up into the mountains on Christmas Eve. Sure, it was nice to have a white Christmas whenever possible, but damn it, what good was it when they made him leave his family and friends so he could spend three fun filled days shacked up in a semi-derelict cabin in the woods?

It wouldn't be so bad if it was just him and Sarah, but freaking John Casey had to tag along too and if there was a bigger Grinch than Casey, Chuck had yet to meet him. Although Sarah seemed to be doing her best to give Casey a run for his money and it was driving him crazy. Hadn't she learned her lesson after last Christmas?

Okay, so that probably wasn't a good example considering everything that had happened. But it hadn't been so bad up until Sarah started executing people on his behalf, and he liked to pretend that that had never taken place. Instead, he focused on the important things, like giving Sarah his mom's charm bracelet. He only wished he had something else of similar value he could give Sarah to get her out of her current funk, but they had barely given him enough time to pack a bag of warm clothes before dragging him away. He had had to leave her present behind and that was yet another reason why he was in a bad mood.

The kicker was that it wasn't even his fault. For once, the new Intersect had worked exactly as advertised, and his part in the mission had gone perfectly. It was Sarah who had screwed up and he was still trying to wrap his brain around that fact.

He had admittedly been flirting with a very cute cocktail waitress with long dark hair, but he hadn't done so because he wanted to. She just happened to be the first attractive woman he had run into after scrambling out of Le Chiffre's office, and chatting her up had been the fastest cover he could improvise. Okay, so maybe his part in the mission hadn't gone perfectly, but it had gone well enough.

At least things had gone well until Sarah suddenly appeared from out of nowhere—she was supposed to be distracting Le Chiffre—a frown on her face and ire in her eyes.

He had frozen then and flushed guiltily even though he really had no reason to. How many times had he watched Sarah flirt mercilessly with some random mark? Hell, her assignment for the night had been to play the role of seductress and he hadn't made a sound. Well, maybe a grumble or two, but he was pretty sure he'd been alone at the time.

So he had no idea why she stormed up to him, barked at him that they were leaving, and started to literally drag him toward the exit. But apparently the cycloptic Frenchman liked the idea of losing Sarah to another man just as much as Chuck did, and a fight had broken out between Chuck and Sarah and Le Chiffre and his bodyguards.

He still wasn't clear on the details, but somehow their cover had been blown. Chuck didn't really care how. All he cared about was the fact that he was now going to miss the chance to spend Christmas with his family. Ellie had sounded so disappointed when he had called to tell her he was leaving on a very impromptu trip to the East Coast to visit Sarah's family. It was an opportunity he simply couldn't pass up, as it might be years before Sarah opened herself up to him like that again, and Ellie knew how Sarah was. Ellie had been understanding and wished him a merry Christmas.

He thought the excuse had sounded like bullshit, but like usual, it had worked. He only wished he was visiting Sarah's family. Jack Burton would be a big improvement over his present situation.

He sighed and pressed his forehead against the backseat window.

"Head off the glass, Bartowski," Casey growled. "I don't want you greasing up my windows."

He briefly contemplated flipping Casey the bird, but knew such an act was not in the spirit of the season, so instead mumbled under his breath, "Freakin' Scrooge."

"What was that?"

"I said, I hope you brought freaking booze," Chuck said, wincing at his statement. The thought of being in an enclosed space with a drunk Casey kind of terrified him and made him regret even mentioning the possibility of alcohol. The big man was easy to provoke when he was in total control, who knew what he'd be like drunk? Casey might very well shoot him just for breathing in his direction.

But even still…if he could spend the next few days in a drunken haze, he just might survive. Or at least not go crazy.

And Sarah…well, if you judged Sarah by her current attitude, it was unlikely she'd even care if Casey did shoot him. For some reason, she was holding the blown mission against him, despite it being completely her fault their covers were compromised, and had barely said two words to him since. All she did was smolder in her seat, stewing in her own anger and disappointment over the situation. He knew—or at least sincerely hoped—that it wasn't really him that she was angry at but herself for acting so unprofessionally.

She held herself to a very high standard, he knew, but she was still only human and humans made mistakes. Sure he was pissed about missing Christmas with his family, but he wouldn't mind so much if Sarah just acted like the mere sight of him didn't disgust her. There was even the possibility of it being a somewhat nice vacation if she would just get over herself.

He sighed again and ran a tired hand through his hair. This was going to suck.

# # # # #

"This is it?" Chuck asked in disgust.

Casey grunted and snarled out, "Sorry it doesn't meet your high standards, Bartowski, but we are in a recession, you know?"

"It does at least have some kind of heating, right? I'm not sure the government would appreciate the Intersect turning into a popsicle."

Casey snorted and then flashed an evil grin. "If it gets cold, you can just cuddle up with Walker."

Casey laughed then, like he had made a fine joke and started to unload the trunk. Sarah barely reacted with a slight tightening around her mouth and a narrowing of her eyes; her cheeks were slightly red, but Chuck chalked that up to the cold and not any kind of embarrassment. Like she even cared, he thought darkly. She'd probably huddle close to Casey for shared body heat before him at the moment.

After unloading the Vic's trunk, Casey tossed him his bag. He caught it haphazardly and swung the shoulder strap into place. He groaned internally at the pathetic sight in front of him.

The cabin was not big, it looked like it had no more than one room, with a rotting, rickety porch. There were two large picture windows facing out toward the road, which seemed a major design flaw to Chuck, and he hoped they had good insulation or he was pretty positive he would turn into a Chucksicle during the night. At least there was a chimney, which meant they might actually be able to build a fire.

He set off determinedly toward the cabin. He wasn't going to just stand around whining about things. That's what the old Chuck might have done. He had a little more confidence and chutzpa than that Chuck ever had. He was determined to prove to himself, if nobody else, that he could at least not be a burden any longer. And besides, he was freaking cold.

He was an L.A. boy, he wasn't exactly used to this kind of weather and his idea of warm winter clothes was a sweater and jeans. Not exactly the best attire for his current environment.

So his first priority was to get a fire going.

"Bartowski, what the hell are you doing?" Casey called from behind him.

Chuck looked over his shoulder. "I'm going inside. It's freezing out here!" he whined.

Casey rolled his eyes and pulled his Sig from the waistband of his pants. "We've got to secure the cabin first, dumbass. You stay back and wait by the car while Walker and I check things out."

This was ridiculous. All he wanted was a chance to enjoy his favorite holiday for once. To relax and not have to worry about rich yacht owners or Fulcrum agents driving a car into the Buy More. He just wanted to have fun! He wanted to be merry!

He whirled around and glared at both Sarah and Casey. "You're telling me you dragged me all the way up here to this hellhole, forcing me to miss Christmas with my family, forcing me to spend time with two people who clearly would rather be anywhere else, forcing me to miss the freaking Twilight Zone marathon, and you don't even know if the place is SAFE!?" He threw his hands up into the air in frustration, sucking in huge breaths, his lungs slightly burning as the cold air hit them.

He knew he was being irrational, that securing the building was standard procedure. But he honestly just didn't care. It was the last straw.

Chuck spun on his heel then and marched straight toward the cabin. He didn't care if there were Ring assassins lurking inside. And even if there were, he had picked up enough training to conceivably give himself a fighting chance. That was good enough for him at the moment.

"Chuck!" he heard Sarah call out but he ignored her. If she could ignore him, he damn well could ignore her too.

He didn't even hesitate to open the door, just turned the knob and stepped inside. He briefly closed his eyes in anticipation of a hail of gunfire riddling his body, but nothing happened and he glared at the barren interior.

He tossed his bag into the corner of the room closest to the fire. He was just so pissed off right now. And the fact that he was pissed off at this time of year only made him angrier.

Immediately, he began searching for stuff he could toss into the soot-darkened brick fireplace. There was nothing on the hearth except for a short iron poker and the single room of the cabin had nothing worth burning but a stack of faded, slightly moist newspaper stored near the fireplace.

He walked outside and spotted a shed that was adjacent to the back of the cabin. Next to the shed was a short stack of firewood. He seriously hoped there was an ax of some kind stored in there because he didn't think it was actually possible to cut down a tree with a machine gun and there didn't seem to be nearly enough firewood to last them three days. Not that he even had a machine gun. Well, Casey might, but he doubted Casey would ever let him touch one of his guns.

The shed was locked by a rusted padlock and he groaned. Leaning forward, he began repeatedly driving his head into the cabin wall. This was the worst Christmas ever.

"Chuck…what are you doing?" he heard Sarah ask in a cautious voice.

"Getting in the holiday spirit." He was still pounding his head. Maybe if he jarred his brain hard enough, the Intersect would fall out?

"Well, stop it!" she whispered nervously. "You're going to hurt yourself."

He stopped hitting his head and brought a hand up to rub the spot. He looked at Sarah and he could see the concern written clearly across her face. "Honestly, I'm not sure it wouldn't be an improvement," he said and then walked away, not bothering to wait for any kind of reaction from her.

# # # # #

Chuck was busy arranging his sleeping bag next to the fire when Casey stepped through the front door. In his hand, dragging behind him, was what looked like…a tree? What the hell?

"Uh…Casey, did you know that a tree is following you?"

"Cute," Casey growled and shut the door behind him.

"Seriously though, what's going on?" Casey wasn't planning on throwing the whole tree into the fire, was he? Those needles burning would stink up the cabin pretty damn quick and airing the place out wasn't really an option.

Casey lifted the tree up until it was standing upright. "It's a Christmas tree, moron."

"Really?" he asked with wide eyes.

Casey had cut down a tree? Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was watching the Twilight Zone marathon after all. No. Maybe he was actually in the Twilight Zone. He started looking around the cabin for Rod Serling but the man was nowhere to be seen.

"I figured it would help to stop your bitching and give me a moment's peace," Casey said. He shrugged his shoulders and Chuck was struck by a very quick flash of what looked like embarrassment on the man's face.

"Wow," Chuck breathed out in amazement. "Thank you. I…uh…really appreciate it."

He was tempted to make a comment about how pathetic the tree actually was, but just couldn't. John Casey was attempting to act like a human being, if only for a little while, and he couldn't do anything to jeopardize the man doing it again in the future.

But damn, it was a sorry looking tree.

Not even reaching four feet in height, the tree only had four branches, each branch like a stepping stone to the one above it, except the branches were shooting out at odd angles, unevenly spaced, and relatively barren of needles. In some ways, it was the best looking tree he'd ever seen.

For the first time since the night before, he flashed Casey a real, heartfelt, sincere smile. "This is really awesome!" he said giddily. He rushed up to the tree and yanked it free from Casey's grip. The big man grunted but did little to stop him from taking it into his possession. "Thank you so much, Casey." Casey grunted again, but he almost sounded…pleased.

Chuck couldn't help but be excited. He had a Christmas tree!

Now he just needed to find some way to decorate it. And hey, maybe if Casey was making an effort, Sarah would too?

# # # # #

Chuck managed to scrounge together a makeshift tree stand by putting together four pieces of firewood in a very tight square. The tree still listed to the side, but at least it could stand upright on its own. Now he just needed to find something to decorate it with.

That's when he remembered the magazine in his bag. He only had one, and only because it had been right there on his desk while Sarah waited for him to pack. That was also why he'd not had enough time to grab her present. She gave him a few seconds to pack clothes, the magazine, and his iPod and travel speakers. That was it.

But the paper from the magazine was glossy. It wasn't tinsel, but it would have to do.

Too bad he didn't have any lights. He supposed he could use his iPod and turn the backlight on permanently, but that would bleed the battery dry very quickly and he still had another two days in the cabin. He didn't think he'd last very long without the iPod to help him block out the rest of the world. He was rooming with two people who hated to talk, he'd definitely need it.

He grabbed the magazine from his bag and began to tear pages out. Once he had several pages free, he tore them into strips. He took the strips and did his best to hang them on the branches. It wasn't easy and he found the best way to get them to stick was to push some needles through the paper. Once done, he took a step back and admired his handiwork. Well, it was no Rockefeller Center tree, but it would do for him.

"Shiny," Casey murmured from behind him.

Chuck spun around in surprise, almost teetering over and into the tree. At the last second he managed to regain his balance. The old Chuck would have fallen for sure. He didn't know if he should thank the Intersect for that or the months of training he'd undergone, but all that mattered was that his Charlie Brown-esque tree had not suffered a crushing death.

"Casey! You surprised me."

Casey grunted and stared at the tree. "Bartowski, that looks pathetic."

"Hey, you picked it," Chuck said defensively.

"First tree I saw," Casey said.

"Whatever. I think it's great."

"It looks good, Chuck."

Chuck shifted his eyes to Sarah in shock. That was probably the first time she'd spoken to him in hours. He didn't count outside earlier; she had thought he was acting crazy.

"If you move it closer to the fire, the flames might reflect off the paper," Sarah suggested.

Huh…he hadn't thought of that at all. That was a really good idea. "Thanks, I think I will." He flashed her a hesitant smile and then carefully moved the tree closer to the fire. Sarah's idea worked and soon the tree was alight with dancing flames.

He smiled again at Sarah, a little wider this time. "That was a really good idea, Sarah."

She turned away from him but responded lightly, "I've been known to have one of those from time to time." She walked over to the corner of the cabin she had claimed as her own and sat down atop her sleeping bag.

# # # # #

He was bored and amusing himself by looking at Sarah, who was reading a book. He was pretending to read his magazine and doing his best not to be obvious, but his eyes never stayed on the page for long. Of course, she was more interesting than any magazine could ever hope to be, but at least if he was reading, he wouldn't feel quite so creepy or pathetic.

Something hit him in the side of the head and he turned an annoyed glare in Casey's direction. He picked up the missile, a crumpled up piece of newspaper, and rolled his eyes. He briefly contemplated retaliating but tossed the ball of paper into the fire. He watched with satisfaction as it flared brightly and then quickly burned to ash.

"Real mature, Casey."

"Surprised you even noticed, considering how hard you were 'reading' your magazine," Casey said sarcastically.

"Boys, behave," Sarah piped up from her corner, her eyes never leaving her book.

"He started it," Chuck whined.

Another newspaper ball hit him right between the eyes and Casey chuckled. "Really?" Chuck asked in disbelief.

Casey shrugged. "I'm bored."

"So you decided to use me for target practice?"

"Better the newspaper than what I normally use when I shoot you in the head," Casey said with a vaguely evil smirk on his face.

"What the hell do you mean 'normally'?"

"Boys, behave," Sarah said a little louder and far more annoyed.

Chuck was undeterred; especially after Casey sent a third ball zooming toward his head. This time Chuck flashed, caught the ball in midair, cocked his arm back, and tossed a fastball that would have made Nolan Ryan proud directly into Casey's nose.

Chuck started to laugh almost immediately.

Casey growled.

Sarah harrumphed and even without seeing, Chuck knew she was glaring at him.

She really needed to lighten up. He had thought after she helped him with the tree that she was starting to thaw, but that had obviously been an aberration.

He knew that this time of year was hard for Sarah but he honestly thought after everything they had been through together she would start to consider him somebody worth spending the holidays with, that he was somebody she could get excited with, that he was somebody who was her family, but apparently not.

Casey was getting into the spirit of things even if he was being annoying while doing it. "Using the Intersect is an unfair advantage," Casey complained.

"Haven't you always told me to never fight fair?"

Casey just glared.

"Besides, if you can't stand the heat, stay out of the fire," Chuck said as cockily as he could and then grinned wide.

Sarah actually snorted in what sounded distinctly like amusement and Chuck whirled around to look at her in surprise.

He probably shouldn't have looked at her though as whatever amusement she might have been expressing quickly disappeared as soon as his eyes landed on her. She went back to quietly reading her book.

Of course, turning away from Casey proved to be a costly mistake as he was nailed in quick succession by two missiles.

Very annoyed, he asked, "Isn't there something else you can do to amuse yourself, Casey?"

He hefted the two projectiles in his hand and studied Casey, looking for the best way to strike back without Casey being able to protect himself. Casey was leaning against the far cabin wall, legs splayed flat in front of him, massive arms crossed in front of his chest, a small stack of newspaper placed right next to him. There was enough paper there to facilitate another 20 missiles and Chuck knew he was in for a long night if this was how Casey intended to pass the time. Couldn't the man just read a book like a normal person? Didn't he have a Reagan biography he could crack open?

"Like what? Moon after my idiot partner? No thanks, I'll leave that in your more than capable hands, Bartowski," Casey said.

"I'm not mooning," Chuck snapped.

Casey grunted in disbelief and made an obvious show of crumpling up another piece of newspaper. "Why don't we ask Walker what she thinks?"

"I'm not getting involved," Sarah piped up.

"How about we sing some carols?" Chuck asked with a smirk. "I'll hook my iPod up to my speakers, throw on some Bing, it'll be a merry old time."

"There is no way in hell I'm going to sing carols with you," Casey said definitively.

"But come on Casey, you're the one who got the tree." Chuck fiddled with his portable speakers and plugged his iPod into the port.

A newspaper missile hit him in the back of his head but he just shrugged it off. Regardless of what his two handlers thought, he would do his best to make this Christmas Eve as Christmassy as possible. He cycled through his iPod until he found an appropriate song.

The beginning of the carol came out loud and clear and he waited for Bing Crosby's dulcet tones before he started to join in. He was not a big fan of Christmas music himself, or singing for that matter, but if it would annoy Casey, make Sarah smile, cheer himself up, or get the other two in the mood for some holiday cheer, then he would sing. Even if he did it horribly off key.

"This is pure hell," Casey said. He turned to his left and started to rummage inside one of his bags. He pulled out a bottle full of an amber liquid and quickly unscrewed the top. He took a long draught and sat back heavily against the wall. "I don't deserve this. All I wanted for Christmas was to be left alone, drink my good scotch, and watch my Band of Brothers DVDs. Instead I'm locked in a cabin with an idiot and his hormonal girlfriend." He took another long gulp. "Merry Christmas to me."

Chuck stopped singing when he finally clued into what Casey was drinking. "Hey, you did bring booze!"

"Don't even think about it," Casey said sharply and hugged the bottle close to his chest protectively, like Gollum with the Ring. Nobody was going to touch his precious.

Chuck turned down the music until it was nothing more than soft background noise. "You shouldn't bring something if you're not going to share with the rest of the class. Didn't they teach you that in Kindergarten?"

"I didn't share then and I'm not sharing now," Casey gritted out through his teeth. "This is my good scotch!"

"But it's Christmas."

"So?"

"So it's the season of giving." When Casey looked entirely unconvinced, Chuck added, "Consider it my present."

Casey snorted and put the cap back on the bottle. "The fact that you're still breathing and I'm here in this shithole with you right now instead of warm in my apartment is your present."

"I got you a present," Chuck stated with a broad grin. "Sarah helped me pick it out."

He watched Casey perk up at that. The big man was clearly listening even if he was attempting to feign indifference. "Oh?"

"Yeah, but I had to leave it back in L.A. because you guys didn't give me any time to pack," he said pointedly. "I even had to leave Sarah's present behind." He turned and looked at Sarah when he said that and almost smiled as he watched her head snap up and look in his direction.

"Well, what did ya get me?"

"Let me have a drink and I'll tell you," Chuck countered.

"Not a chance, Bartowski."

Chuck shrugged his shoulders and went back to focusing on his iPod. "But Sarah said I made a really good choice."

"You got me a gun, didn't you?" Casey asked him. When he didn't respond, he shifted his attention to Sarah. "He got me a gun, didn't he?" Casey actually sounded excited.

"I promised I wouldn't tell you. Sorry," she added with an apologetic looking smile.

Casey grumbled and motioned with his hand for him to come closer. He glared at Chuck the whole time he shuffled over to stand in front of him. He handed the bottle up and said, "One drink only, and I'll be watching you."

Chuck took the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and brought the bottle up to his lips. He took a short drink and winced as the liquid burned his throat and settled as a warm pool in his gut. He was just about to hand the bottle back when an idea popped into his head.

"Now Sarah gets a drink."

"What?!" Both Casey and Sarah blurted the question at the same time.

Chuck danced out of the way of Casey's lunging arms and scurried over to stand by Sarah. "She helped me pick it out, she deserves one too."

Sarah looked up at him with dark, guarded eyes. "I don't want a drink."

Chuck shook his head. "You have to drink."

"I don't have to do anything," Sarah said annoyed.

Chuck shoved the bottle in her direction. If the only way he could get her to lighten up was to get her drunk, then that's exactly what he was going to do. "Drink," he insisted.

"No," she said. She was glaring up at him full force now and truthfully it was a little terrifying. But he wasn't going to give up. "Somebody needs to stay sober and on guard."

"Oh right, because you're so concerned with the mission, eh Walker?" Casey snorted and walked up to stand next to Chuck. Chuck was briefly afraid that Casey would attack him for running with his scotch, but the hulking colonel seemed more interested in his partner than him at the moment. "If it weren't for you and your dedication to duty," Casey said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I wouldn't be here. So you know what? The kid's right. Drink up. Maybe it'll finally unbunch your panties long enough so that whatever you got jammed up your ass finally falls free."

"Er…Casey, maybe you should –"

"Not now, Bartowski. I'm talking to my partner."

"Okay then."

"I don't know what your problem is, but I'm tired of it. Would you rather Chuck was dead? Is that what you want? You think it would have been better for him to ignore the cute brunette and risk death or capture just so he doesn't make you jealous?" Casey stopped his verbal assault to forcefully grab the bottle out of Chuck's hand. He took a quick sip and then pushed it in Sarah's face. "Drink, Walker."

Sarah reached up and pushed the bottle away. She stood up and glared at both of them. Her eyes were blazing, some of her hair had fallen into her face, and her whole body was tensed. Chuck thought she looked beautiful and fiery. He had a sudden stronger than normal compulsion to kiss her.

"I said I didn't want any," she snapped. She moved into what looked suspiciously like a fighting stance.

"Just take a drink, Sarah, and I promise I won't talk to you for the rest of the trip, if you want," Chuck said pleadingly. He implored her with his eyes to please just give in and maybe relax for a little bit.

"Fine," Sarah said harshly. She grabbed the bottle, brought it to her red lips, and tipped it back. She drank and drank and Casey had to pry back the bottle before she drank it all.

"Whoa there, Walker, I said a drink, not enough to go comatose."

Sarah rolled her eyes and licked her lips. Chuck could only stare as her pink tongue ran over her mouth. The urge to kiss her grew nearly overwhelming.

"Hey, you wanted me to drink so I drank," Sarah said with a stubborn set to her jaw.

He really needed something to distract him from grabbing her and pulling her close. "Casey, pass that back over here," Chuck said, with desperation clearly in his voice.

Casey stared at him for a loaded second and then handed the bottle over with an understanding grunt.

# # # # #

Bottle #1: Half empty…

"I like snow," Casey said. "It reminds me of Christmas at home."

"Snow is cold," Chuck said. "I don't like the cold."

"I used to live in the snow," Sarah added.

"What? Like an igloo?" Chuck took a drink and scrunched his face in confusion. "No wait, not an igloo. An…Eskimo?" Chuck grinned wide, like he had just solved a very difficult problem and nodded his head. "Yeah, like an Eskimo?"

"It would explain why she's such an ice queen most of the time," Casey said with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I am not an ice queen!"

Casey completely ignored Sarah's protestation, his focus on Chuck. "When was the last time she even buttered your toast?"

Chuck chuckled, his laugh quickly turning into a slight cough at the murderous look in Sarah's eyes. "Uh…define butter."

"I do too butter his toast!"

"If you have to ask the question, Bartowski, then you know your answer," Casey said.

"I haven't had breakfast in a long time," Chuck lamented.

Bottle #1: Three-quarters empty…

"So we know how many times Chuckles has hidden his salami in the sandwich shop, but what about you?"

Sarah bristled and glared at Casey, but soon fixed her glare on him. He had no idea why she was glaring at him.

"I hate sandwich shops," Sarah growled.

Casey started to laugh then and Chuck just cocked his head to the side and stared. "Did you know that he still goes to her deli?"

"What!?"

"I do not!" Chuck immediately defended without really thinking his response through. He hastily amended before Casey could throw him under the bus some more. "Only once or twice," he added lamely.

"I hate that little…little…midget bitch," Sarah growled and squeezed his hand in an iron grip.

He immediately started to whimper in pain.

Casey just laughed.

Bottle #1: Circling the drain…

"This one time, at band camp, I went four days without sleep," Casey said proudly. "Oh, and I once played for three hours straight."

Both Chuck and Sarah laughed at that. Sarah was sitting right up against Chuck, the lower part of her left leg slung over his right, her head occasionally resting on his shoulder.

"That's a good joke," Sarah said, still quietly chuckling. It was her turn to drink so she had the bottle grasped firmly in her right hand. "Just like that movie."

Chuck turned to stare at Sarah in open-mouthed shock. "No way! You've seen a movie?"

Sarah rolled her eyes and nudged him hard in the ribs with her elbow. "I have seen some movies, you know, I'm not completely…completely…" She stopped talking and took a swig. "I'm not an idiot!" she said indignantly. "I know stuff!" She paused, still bristling with indignation and randomly blurted out, "Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader! That blew my mind when I saw it for the first time," Sarah said in stupefied awe.

Chuck laughed and bumped his shoulder into hers, then threw an arm around her neck. She moved closer and he rested his chin on the top of her head. "Of course you see movies, Sarah. With me." He leaned back to grin at her and she hit him in the ribs again, but this time the blow was much softer.

"You two are disgusting."

Chuck stuck his tongue out at Casey and filched the bottle out of Sarah's hand. He drank from it and then gave it back. Sarah barely even acted like she noticed.

"It's true though," Casey said with a firm nod of his head and a punch to Chuck's arm. "I went to band camp. One of the clarinet players had a dad in the Army, used to talk about him all the time, put the thought in my head."

"Ow!" Chuck exclaimed and rubbed the sore spot after the pain radiating up from his arm finally broke through the alcohol haze surrounding his mind. "Are you serious?" he asked dubiously.

"I was a musical child."

Chuck really started to laugh at that, bent over at the waist, his face nearly into the floor. "Oh my God, you were a band geek!"

"I was not!" Casey immediately objected.

"You were too! Things make so much more sense now."

"They do?" Sarah questioned in surprise.

"Of course! Overcompensation!"

"Why are you yelling?"

"I don't know! Am I?"

"Yes!"

Chuck lowered his voice to a whisper, "Is this better?"

"I played the trombone and the oboe," Casey murmured. "And if you tell anyone that, I'll kill you," Casey suddenly threatened.

"I've come to the conclusion that that's your version of an 'I love you'."

Bottle #1: Last drop…

"Pssst, Sarah."

"What?"

"It's all gone. What do we do?"

"I think he has another bottle."

"Really? Should we grab it?"

"He said he was making lemon snow, so now would be the time."

"Wait…how is he making lemon snow?"

"I have no idea."

"What do we do if he catches us?"

"Hide?"

"Where? It's only one room."

"We could go outside and make snow angels."

"But we're not dressed. For snow."

"We're not?"

"Well…I am."

"My daddy calls me his angel. Do you think I'm an angel, Chuck?"

"I think you're better than an angel. I think you're the most beautiful thing in the world."

"I like you, Chuck."

"Sarah, where'd your pants go?"

Bottle #2: Just cracked open…

"So then he thinks that the only way to save my life is to kiss me. To kiss me!" Casey repeats in disgust. "So he did it. Honestly, I would have much rather died of the bio-toxin. At least there's dignity in that."

"I'm so sorry I tried to save your life, Casey." Chuck tried to use sarcasm to deflect away from the embarrassment he was feeling but he knew he wasn't fooling anybody.

"I think he just wanted to kiss me."

Chuck wanted to get off this topic and onto something, anything else. He didn't remember whose bright idea it was to discuss "alternative" hookups, but they had been focusing on his stupid mistake for almost 10 minutes. It was time to move on.

"And what about you, Sarah?" he asked, the words just tumbling out of his mouth.

"Oh I don't think you want to know, Chuck," Sarah warned.

"He may not want to know, but I could stand to hear a little more," Casey said with a smirk.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Sarah said. She had a very nervous look on her face, her nose twitching just slightly and her brow scrunched together. Casey shoved the bottle into her hands and practically forced her to take several long drinks. Her eyes were completely glazed over and she nodded her head. "Okay."

Casey leaned over to him and said in a loud, conspiratorial whisper, not that Sarah was paying attention as she seemed lost in her own world, "This should be interesting. Carina used to always tell me that Walker has a bit of a weakness for pretty girls."

Chuck gaped at Casey in slack-jawed surprise. Sarah had a weakness for pretty girls? He whirled to stare at Sarah who was mumbling to herself and ticking off fingers like she was counting. It was a bit difficult because she wouldn't let go of the bottle, so she kept ticking off the same fingers and Chuck was pretty sure that whatever she was counting, she was messing up the count.

Sarah finally stopped and looked at both him and Casey. She still seemed in a daze, and Chuck wasn't sure if it was because of the alcohol or the thoughts running through her head. Why didn't she think it was a good idea that he know about any embarrassing encounters with another woman? They had just talked about him kissing Casey, honestly, nothing Sarah said could possibly top that.

Finally, Sarah began talking, her voice slurring the occasional word. "Well, there was Jill."

Chuck's eyes bugged out and he squeaked, "Jill?"

Sarah shook her head vigorously, "Not your Jill, my Jill. I hated your Jill. Stupid bitch thought she could take what's mine." Then she reached out and grabbed his arm, like she was afraid he would get up and walk away.

Chuck was just confused now, and the only thing that penetrated the cloudiness surrounding him was that Sarah had her own Jill. "You had a Jill?"

Sarah got a wistful smile on her face, her hand falling away. "For one incredible night junior year I did." She paused and took a drink. "I had her several times in fact." Then she giggled.

"Uh…wow. I don't know what to say," Chuck said.

"Don't say anything, moron," Casey said with a slight slur, elbowing him so hard in an effort to get him to shut up that he nearly keeled over.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh and then there was Cara." Sarah sighed dreamily. "She was blonde, had blue eyes, and had an ass that actually made me jealous." She pouted, "I miss her."

"Just how many were there?" Chuck asked in disbelief. He had no idea Sarah had these thoughts and feelings.

But either Sarah didn't hear him or she was too lost in her current alcohol induced fantasy world, because she continued on unabated with her litany of names. "There was Tiffany and Ashley and Nicole and that girl in the club in Prague and…and…shit, I can't remember them all." Her face scrunched up adorably as she moved into deep thought. Finally her eyes brightened, and her whole face lit up. "And Carina, of course."

"Carina!"

Chuck hurriedly grabbed the bottle out of Sarah's hands and took a drink. He needed oblivion right now.

"We're really good friends, Chuck," Sarah said solemnly. "Really good," she emphasized.

"Bosom buddies?" Casey asked with a smirk.

Sarah nodded her head enthusiastically. "They may not be big like mine, but they're really fun to play with. She especially likes it when you bite. She gets very appreciative."

Chuck picked the wrong time to take a drink of scotch as Sarah's unexpected comment sent him into a coughing fit. He spat out some of the scotch onto the cabin floor and Casey growled at him for doing so. Chuck hurriedly moved away from Casey and slightly closer to Sarah.

"Did you," he needed liquid courage to ask the question he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to, "and Carina…you know…when she came to town?"

"Which time?"

"Both?"

Sarah growled at him then and she looked very upset. "No! She wanted to but I said no. Both times! I was so stupid."

"Why'd you say no?" Chuck was genuinely surprised. From the way Sarah talked, he would have figured she'd have jumped at the chance.

"Stupid nerd wouldn't let me."

"W-what?"

"I couldn't do it because of you. Stupid Chuck," she glared at him. "You have no idea how hard it was to say no to her too." Sarah closed her eyes, like she was remembering another time, and bit down on her bottom lip and quietly moaned. It was maybe the sexiest thing Chuck had ever seen. "She can be quite persuasive when she wants to be too and I still said no!" Her eyes opened and locked on him with an angry glare.

"What did I do!?"

"You made me like you!"

"Oh."

"Oh," she mocked. Then she grumbled, "I was worried you'd find out and get mad at me. I didn't think I could stand to have you look at me like that." Then she sighed and stated in a whisper, "I wanted it to be you anyway, and not her."

The three of them grew quiet after that, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Despite the huge revelation about Sarah's proclivities, Chuck couldn't help but be pleased at the knowledge that apparently Sarah wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"Stupid Chuck," Sarah mumbled. Then she reached out, grabbed a handful of his shirt and yanked him forward until his face was only inches from hers. He could smell the alcohol on her warm breath and he couldn't help but stare into her eyes. "Carina is amazing, Chuck, maybe the best ever. And I passed up sex with her twice for you. So you seriously owe me and you better fucking deliver or else I'm going to be really pissed." Then she let him go and went back to looking at the ground, deep in thought.

Chuck murmured, still a little scared after Sarah's threat, "What the hell do you think I've been trying to do for the last two years? Not my fault you keep saying no."

"Is that it?" Casey asked in clear disappointment. "I thought you would at least tell him about that incident in Pakistan."

"Oh yeah," Sarah said, looking back up at them again. "Well, you see, Chuck, it was Christmas and Carina and I were in…someplace you don't need to know, and Carina can get pretty frisky after a firefight. She kept talking about how she wanted to give me my present, but that she couldn't wait until we got back to base. So she had me pressed up against the wall of one of the village's houses, and she was…doing stuff with her fingers," Sarah blushed bright red at that, "when these two guys come walking around the corner. They see us and they start getting pissed, and Carina, well she doesn't like being interrupted, so she…"

Bottle #2: Two-fifths empty…

Chuck was grinning as he talked, "So that was Ellie's first experience with eggnog."

"That story was disgusting, Chuck."

"How the hell was that one of your best Christmas memories?" Casey asked.

"Aww, come on, it was funny!"

"She threw up all over her presents. That's terrible!" Sarah lamented.

"Well, I did try to warn her that dad said not to drink the eggnog, but she insisted." Chuck shook his head, remembering. "She was the oldest and she was 'mature'. She said she could handle it."

Casey was muttering under his breath and Sarah was shaking her head. "Oh whatever, I gave her half the candy I got that year and let her play my Nintendo whenever she wanted," Chuck said with a frown. "She loved Super Mario."

"You're really nice, Chuck."

"That was a good Christmas. One of the few times around the holidays that Dad didn't get all weird because Mom was gone. And he and Ellie even got along for more than a week before they started yelling at each other."

"I'm sorry," Sarah whispered.

Chuck shrugged. "It's okay. Like I said, one of my best Christmas memories. We were happy then."

Bottle #2: One-third down…

"Are you sure you don't want anymore, Chuck?"

"I-I-I think I've had enough," he hiccupped.

"Chuck, I have a confession to make: I think Ellie is really hot," Sarah said. "And sometimes…I…uh…dream about her."

"So do I," Casey added. He had an uncomfortable look on his face. Then he shifted awkwardly in place, his legs crossing.

"I had a dream about her two nights ago where she was wearing nothing more than a really sexy Mrs. Claus outfit," Sarah said, her eyes downcast. She really did sound like she regretted having the dream, but then he didn't know why she was telling him.

"Never mind," Chuck said. He held his hand out insistently for the bottle. Sarah handed it over meekly and he started to gulp down the amber liquid. "I'm not drunk enough for this."

Bottle #2: One-quarter left…

"So the LT tosses a care package on my bed and says it's from my father. You know, a present for the holidays?"

Chuck nodded his head like he understood. Presents come at Christmas. Everybody knew that. Duh. "I open it and you know what's inside?" Casey said, his voice almost sounding choked up. "Inside is my mom's homemade fruit cake, some Sno balls," Casey stopped and shook his head, "Dad thought that was ironic, cause I was in the middle of the desert. Anyway, a bunch of letters from home, and two magazines."

"Let me guess, Guns and Ammo and GUNS?"

Casey started and looked at Sarah with wide eyes. "How did you know that?"

Sarah laughed and laughed. "They're like the only two pieces of 'literature'," Sarah made quote marks with her fingers, "I ever see you reading."

"Lifetime subscriber to both," Casey said proudly.

They just passed the bottle around quietly between the three of them.

"That was the best damn Christmas present I ever got," Casey said quietly, a far off look in his eyes.

Bottle #2: Not much left…

Sarah was practically sitting in his lap now, her back pressed firmly against his chest, and his hands resting on her stomach.

"You know what my best Christmas was?" Sarah said. Her voice grew quiet and timid. "I was 12 and we were in Cleveland. I'd never been to Cleveland before and I can't say I ever want to go back. But daddy said we were going to stay for months, and it was the first time we'd stayed in one place for longer than two weeks since I was 9."

Chuck began to trail his fingers back and forth across the skin of her stomach underneath her shirt and made encouraging noises into her ear. He knew how hard it was for her to open up and he didn't want her to stop. He just hoped he was making things more comfortable for her.

After several seconds of her just sitting quietly, Casey occasionally drinking out of the bottle and staring at them with a vaguely nauseous look on his face, she started talking again. "So he got us a real house. We picked out a tree together, ate a real turkey for dinner, and he even gave me a present."

She sighed and her eyes closed and Chuck wondered if maybe she had fallen asleep. "Daddy didn't really believe in presents or gifts in general. Presents meant you had unnecessary stuff and unnecessary stuff is a hindrance when you're on the run."

"Your father was an asshole and an idiot," Casey growled. "I should have shot him when I got the chance."

Sarah didn't do anything but hold out her hand for the bottle, which Casey reluctantly gave her. She took a small drink. "Daddy liked Chuck."

"Like I said, an idiot."

Chuck rolled his eyes but couldn't help feeling a small kernel of happiness that Sarah's father approved of him. He knew that Jack Burton wasn't exactly a model father, but Sarah did love him and he knew that his opinion mattered to her even if it probably shouldn't.

"He got me a doll. It had blonde hair and a blue checkered dress. It was completely wrong for me and I was way too old, but it was the best present anybody has ever given me." She turned her head slightly and kissed the bottom of his throat. The feather light touch of her lips made him shiver. "Or it was until last year."

"I'm so glad I'm not going to remember any of this in the morning," Casey groused.

"I lost that doll when we moved," Sarah said sadly. "Daddy left it behind."

Sarah spun around in his lap until most of her body was facing him. She put her hands on his shoulders and stared straight into his eyes. "Chuck, don't leave me behind, okay?"

Bottle #2: Empty…

"I'm sleepy," Sarah said in a quiet voice.

"Me too," Chuck said in an equally quiet voice.

"We should go to bed then."

"That's a good idea."

"I want to sleep with you," Sarah said. She looked so vulnerable and nervous after her statement Chuck had no choice but to say yes.

"Okay." He smiled gently and brushed some hair out of her face. His head might feel really funny, but he didn't need to be sober to know when he was being given a gift. "My sleeping bag or yours?"

Sarah looked up at him with big, liquid eyes. Slowly she leaned up and kissed him on the lips. She tasted of the scotch they had been drinking all night and something else he couldn't put his finger on, but it was the same taste she always seemed to have. After only three seconds of the too sweet kiss, Sarah sighed and settled against him, her head resting on his chest. "I don't care. Wherever you are, that's where I want to be."

Since they were already resting atop Sarah's sleeping bag, Sarah practically in his lap, Chuck figured they might as well stay where they were. He contorted his body, and by extension, Sarah's, so that they could wriggle inside the warm cocooning embrace of the sleeping bag. Sarah was already half-asleep once they got settled and pressed herself closer to him, making contented noises and smiling.

"Night, Sarah."

"Night, Chuck," she murmured.

Chuck looked over at Casey, who was already in his own sleeping bag, bottle of empty scotch in his hand, pretty much dead to the world. "Night, John-boy."

"Merry Christmas, Chuck," Casey said. He turned over then, his back to Chuck and Sarah.

"Merry Christmas," Chuck responded in kind.

Chuck laid down then and got comfortable. He wrapped his arm around Sarah and held her close. So this Christmas Eve hadn't been so bad after all. Hopefully tomorrow would bring similar good tidings and cheer.

"Hey, Chuck," Sarah whispered into his chin.

"Hmmm?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Sarah, I understand." He actually, sort of, kind of, did.

She kissed his jaw then and he could feel her lips moving across his skin. She leaned up and whispered directly into his ear, "I got you a present too, but I don't like it anymore. When we get back to L.A., I'll give you your new present in my hotel room."

Well. Okay.

Chuck didn't really know what to say to that. He wasn't even sure exactly what she meant. All he knew was that he hoped she remembered all of this in the morning so he could have the chance to find out. He hoped he remembered it too.

Sarah settled back on top of him and very quickly fell asleep.

His hand slipped under the hem of Sarah's T-shirt to rest on the skin of her lower back. It was soft and incredibly warm under his fingertips.

And Sarah still wasn't wearing pants.

"Merry Christmas to me," Chuck said.

He kissed Sarah's forehead and soon fell asleep himself.

That's all folks! Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night! I hope, wherever you are, that you enjoy the holidays.